


Stay Warm

by heraisabiter



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Angst, Canon Compliant, Fluff, Grief/Mourning, Knitting, M/M, plot not porn, wolfstar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-28
Updated: 2016-08-28
Packaged: 2018-08-11 14:05:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7895488
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/heraisabiter/pseuds/heraisabiter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sirius is grumpy about being stuck in his childhood home. Remus loves him anyway. Molly teaches him a thing or two about keeping domestic tasks from driving him nuts. Warning: Much angst and suffering.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stay Warm

"Sirius, I have to go."

"It's already late, Moony. Stay the night." A sinful smile came to Sirius' face as he leaned in close. "I'll make it worth your while."

Remus leaned back against the door as Sirius' lips pressed against the side of his neck, warm and soft. A moan tried to escape his throat and his knees threatened to give way, but he pulled himself together. "Sirius, I can't. I'm meeting some other werewolves tonight, I have to try to get them on our side before they side with the Death Eaters." Remus folded Sirius into his arms. It was still a bit of a shock how bony he was after his time in prison and then on the run. Remus held him tight for a moment, then dropped a quick kiss on his mouth before pulling away. "I have to go now. I'll write you when I can."

The door closed with a snap, leaving Sirius alone in the dark hall of his childhood home.

\-----

Sirius ghosted down the corridor, his scuffed black boots in his hand, his feet silent in socks. He paused on the landing and listened for any sound of life from the rest of the house, then slipped down the stairs, hugging the wall so the steps wouldn't squeak. He timed his pace with the snores of one of the paintings, and grimaced as he realized what he was doing. The old techniques that had allowed him to sneak out as a teenager came back so easily, despite the decades that had passed.

At the bottom of the stairs, Sirius paused to slip on his boots. He winced at the soft creak as he pushed through the kitchen door, holding on to keep it from swinging back, then easing it closed as silently as possible.

"And where are you going?"

Sirius flinched, then pasted on a smile before turning around. "Molly, what on earth are you doing up?"

Molly Weasley sat at the rough kitchen table in a ratty robe and slippers, knitting needles in her hands and a steaming mug next to her yarn ball. "I couldn't sleep. Now I'll ask again, where are you going?"

"I just fancied a bit of a walk, that's all."

Molly's eyebrow arched. "Didn't Dumbledore warn you to stay inside?"

Sirius rolled his eyes. "I wasn't planning on going to the Leaky Cauldron, just a stroll to stretch my legs, get some smokes-"

"Get seen and have someone report your location. Or don't you remember your face was plastered all over both the magical and muggle worlds just a year ago? All we need is for the clerk who sells you your nasty cigarettes to recognize you. Even the muggle authorities could cause problems." Molly set down her knitting and got another mug, gesturing for Sirius to sit as she prodded the kettle with her wand and retrieved a tin from the cupboard. 

For a wild moment, Sirius wondered what Molly would do if he just left, then he shuffled over to the table and plunked down. Molly set the mug next to his elbow and poured water from the kettle over the tea bag, sending chamomile scented steam into the air. 

"I know you're restless, Sirius, but you mustn't be reckless. Just think what it would do to Harry if you were caught. What it would do to Remus!" Molly sat back down at her spot next to the fireplace and gathered up a handful of metal needles and a short tube of already-knit wool. "Your arrest would be a best case. If the Death Eaters caught you-"

"Yes, Molly, I quite understand." Sirius pulled in the cup of chamomile tea she had poured for him and stirred it in hopes of making it stronger. Floral teas were never quite strong enough for his taste. "I just never thought I'd be back in this damned house."

"I know this isn't your choice of hiding places, but it's a time of war. We must all make sacrifices."

Sirius snorted. "I'm useless in this fight, except for my contribution of betraying the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black by offering my ancestral home as a safe house for the Order. All I'm doing is keeping Kreacher from tossing everyone out on their ears, and just barely that."

"You think I don't wish I was out there, too? You think I like staying here, exterminating doxies and making sandwiches while Arthur is guarding the prophecy, Charlie is recruiting Romanian wizards, and Bill is our envoy to the goblins?" The rhythmic clicking of her needles was a soothing counterpoint to Molly's bitter tone. "We all contribute what we can until the real fight starts. Then we'll all be needed."

"How do you do it, Molly?" Sirius tasted the chamomile tea, then added a significant amount of honey, wishing it was ale.

"I do everything I can to make sure my loved ones are as happy and comfortable as I can make them. I cook, I clean, and I knit." She held up the short tube that already hung from the tangle of metal and yarn in her hands. "I make things for the people I love, so I can always know they're warm."

"Teach me."

It would have been difficult for a by-stander to say who looked more surprised at Sirius' request. After a moment of shock, Molly's lips pursed. "You think you're so funny. Just see if I ever make you so much as a sock off my needles." She started to gather her knitting, but the ball of yarn rolled away from her. 

"No, really!" Sirius caught the stray ball of yarn and rubbed it between his hands. "I'm bored out of my mind. Please, I need something to do."

Molly considered a moment, then sat back down. "Alright, then."

\-----

The grime on the window did little to dim the sunlight that slanted through it and shined directly into Remus' face until he rolled over and put his arm over his eyes. He had perhaps not the worst headache in his life, but one of the top five. He worked his tongue around his mouth, trying to get the saliva flowing, but his mouth was too dry.

The worn floorboards were cold under his feet through the holes in his threadbare socks. The room he had rented was cramped and crowded by the narrow bed, stove, icebox, and bookshelf that occupied it. All of it was shabby to match the tenant.

The only contents of the icebox were a couple of brown bottles of ale. After a moment of internal debate, Remus popped the cap off one of them and took a long swallow from the bottle. It wasn't like he had anyone to impress today.

Remus didn't fit in well with most of his kind. They were a hard living, hard drinking bunch of miscreants. He longed for a night on a sofa with a good book, clean clothes, and a pot of tea, but the "pack" would never let him hear the end of it if he suggested such a thing.

This was a terrible assignment. His primary goal of keeping the werewolves from siding with the Death Eaters had been over before he had even introduced himself - Greyback had already gotten to them. But he was still here. At least he could keep an eye on things for the Order.

A tapping at the window drew his attention, and he opened it to permit a nondescript brown owl carrying a paper-wrapped package. The owl dropped the parcel on the bed, then flew back out the window.

Remus closed the window and drew the blinds, plunging the small room into comforting gloom that hid some of its shabbiness and eased his headache. The beer helped as well, but he wished he were a talented enough potion maker to mix a hangover elixir as he unwrapped the box.

A letter fell from the packaging and he opened that before the box.

_Moony,_

_Molly wants me to help her delouse the attic, so naturally I'm hiding in the wine cellar to write you. There's nothing happening worth writing about, though, unless you want to hear about my thrilling heroics in the battle for my father's study. It's actually quite the tale now that I think of it. A dashing hero facing off against a horde of enormous bookworms, dangerous artifacts, and a treacherous servant. Might make a good read when I write my memoirs._

_I miss you. Stay warm._

_\- S_

Remus grinned. Sirius gave the best gifts. He always knew exactly what was wanted and needed, and he didn't disappoint this time. In the box was a bottle of hangover elixir, a bag of cold fried chicken, another bag of rolls, a tin of Darjeeling, and three pairs of rather ugly socks. Remus took a swig of the elixir, sighing with relief as his headache faded and his stomach settled. His appetite surged, and he tore into a piece of chicken. The rolls were softer and fresher than he thought they would be, with a hint of sweetness. He washed it down with a swallow of beer and wiped chicken grease off his fingers before he pulled out a pair of socks. They were striped red and gray, and felt wonderfully soft and squishy. He striped off the thin, worn socks he had been wearing, and pulled the new ones on, his cold toes warming almost instantly.

Remus closed his eyes and ate some more chicken, thought about Sirius' mischievous grey eyes, and wondered what had made him send the socks.

\-----

Sirius was working on a striped scarf and reading a book from his father's study - a surprisingly entertaining volume chronicling the exploits of an ancestor named Magnus Black - when a soft knock on his door made him look up. The Weasleys were usually involved in their own pursuits this late, if they weren't asleep. What could they want? "Come in."

It wasn't one of the Weasleys. Sirius froze a moment, then stood, using the motion of closing his book to surreptitiously slip his knitting under one of the pillows on his bed. "What are you doing here?"

Remus closed the door and leaned back against it, looking more tired and sickly than Sirius could ever remember seeing him. His auburn hair was shaggier than usual, hiding some of his scars and falling in his eyes as he leaned back against the door. His clothes were shabbier than ever and he seemed to be leaning against the door because he might fall otherwise. "It's good to see you, too."

Sirius was alarmed at how heavily Remus leaned into his arms and how thin he felt there. "Mooney, what's wrong? Are you ill?"

"No, Pads, just exhausted. It's the night after the full moon." Remus sagged in Sirius' arms and nuzzled his neck. "You smell good."

"Er…Remus?"

Remus straightened and pulled back. "Sorry. Too much time with the 'pack.' They like their wild ways." He laughed and kissed Sirius's mouth.

Sirius kissed him back, twining his fingers in Remus's hair, pushing it back and pulling it gently. "You need a hair cut."

Remus chuckled at the tug in his hair. "Being shaggy is part of my cover. I was embracing my inner beast." Sirius' fingers began working through his shaggy locks, scratching his scalp, and Remus sighed. "My liver doesn't appreciate the lifestyle. Thank you for the hangover elixir."

"Poor Moony, out there getting drunk several times a week and spying on potentially dangerous enemies." Sirius almost managed to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "I'd gladly swap places with you."

"Not anymore. I'm done for a while. Greyback told me to come to London and do some spying on the Ministry. Why does everyone think I'd make a good spy?"

Sirius laughed and pulled him toward the bed. "It's because you're so quiet and unassuming. They think you're non-threatening."

Remus flopped across the mattress, eliciting a chorus of creaks from the old springs. "I guess years of hiding my 'furry little problem' did give me a lot of practice."

Sirius sat at the head of the bed. "The professor vibe helps you seem trustworthy, too."

Remus smiled back at him. "It's good to see you, Pads. I've missed you."

"I missed you too, Moony." Sirius fidgeted and looked at his hands. "Most of the rooms are habitable now. Shall I make up a bed for you?"

Remus' hand settled over Sirius', putting a stop to his fidgeting as their fingers threaded together. "I'd rather spend the night with you."

Sirius grinned. "I was hoping you'd say that." He pulled Remus' hand. "Lie on the bed properly, then. I want to stretch out, too."

Remus heaved himself over so his head was on the pillow, then made a face. He reached under the pillow and pulled out the ball of yarn. "What…?"

The blood drained from Sirius' face as Remus pulled the the tail end of the yarn. "Wait, don't…" He scrambled under the pillow and carefully extracted his knitting, checking the needles to make sure none of the stitches had slipped off the needles. Once he was reassured that no damage had been done, he realized that Remus was staring at him.

"You…you made that?"

His cheeks turned crimson and he grabbed the yarn ball, rewinding the yarn that had unwound and tangled around his knitting when he had hastily hidden it. "Well…it's not finished. I still have a couple of feet to go."

Remus took the scarf and looked at it, inspecting the stitching, feeling it's softness, then grinned, looking ten years younger. "You really made this?"

The corners of Sirius' mouth turned up. "Yeah."

"I like it." Remus barked a laugh.

"What?"

"Did you make those socks, too?"

Sirius nodded, his blush deepening. "Molly made me make a half-dozen pairs before she would teach me how to do anything else. You got the first pairs that actually looked like socks."

Remus chuckled. "I wondered why you sent me socks. They're very warm. Thank you."

Sirius beamed. "You really liked them?"

Remus kicked his shoes off and revealed his long, narrow feet sheathed in striped red and gray socks. "These are my favorite pair."

Sirius leaned down and kissed him thoroughly. "I'm really glad you like them."

"I like them even more now that I know you made them for me." Remus pulled Sirius into another kiss. "But really, knitting? It's not very punk rock."

Sirius snorted and pulled a face. "There's nothing more punk rock than making things for yourself instead of buying them."

Remus laughed. "What possessed you to take up knitting?"

"I had to do something other than cleaning." Sirius shrugged. "It's keeping me sane."

"Is it really that bad?"

Sirius laid back on the bed, staring up at the canopy. "Sometimes. It's not as bad as Azkaban. I have a whole house instead of just a cell, and the only mad howling I hear is from my mother's portrait or the occasional artifact that doesn't want to be removed. Still…I had a lot of time to think in Azkaban. When I wasn't contemplating my failure to kill Wormtail and what I would do to him if I ever got out, I thought about my family a lot. They were hardly happy memories, so the dementors left me alone when I was thinking about them and this house." He heaved a deep sigh, hating the way his breath shuddered as he exhaled. "I didn't break out of Azkaban just to be a prisoner here again. I'd burn it to the foundations if it weren't for all the protective spells that have been laid in over the centuries."

Remus pulled him into his arms. "I'm sorry, Pads."

Sirius blinked hard a few times and forced a more cheerful tone. "At least I have a say in the décor now. I'm thinking about putting up new wall paper as soon as I figure out how to get the portraits down."

"It was dark when I came in and I didn't want to wake anything, so I couldn't see much, but I did notice that the place smells better."

Sirius smiled a bit. "My dear mother would have fits if she could see what's been done to the place. Kreacher almost ripped his ears off when I disposed of the axe Great Aunt Maeve used to decapitate her house elves. Started screeching everything he imagined his poor mistress would say about her good-for-nothing, blood-traitor, criminal son, the dishonor I bring to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

"I'm not sure tormenting Kreacher is a healthy way to deal with your frustration, Pads."

"I'm not going out of my way to torment him, Moony. It's just a pleasant side effect of the otherwise unpleasant process of purging my house of my ancestors' prized heirlooms."

"Still, schadenfreude isn't becoming," Remus scolded, but it lost its sting as he cuddled closer and kissed Sirius' cheek. "Especially considering the other things you could be doing to dishonor the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black that are so much more fun."

Sirius grinned as another kiss landed below his ear. "I could use a bit of fun."

\-----

Snow was falling on the rundown square when Remus slipped through the front door and closed it behind him as quietly as possible to keep from waking the hostile portraits still hanging in the halls. _We really need to figure out how to counteract those permanent sticking charms. Maybe if we knock out the wall…_ He pulled off his coat and hung it on one of the pegs just inside the door.

The bag he carried rustled softly as he pushed through the door to the kitchen. "Pads? You in here?"

"Hello, Moony!" Sirius stirred the cauldron over the fire in the hearth one last time. "I hope you're hungry." As soon as he said it, he scowled and slumped into the nearest chair. "Merlin's balls. I really am the Order's housewife, aren't I?"

Remus sat next to him. "I'm sorry, Sirius." He didn't know what else to say. He hated seeing Sirius like this.

With a great sigh, Sirius leaned back and stared at the ceiling. "It's not your fault. It's to be expected, really. So much time cooking and cleaning and knitting… I may as well don a frilly apron and call it a day."

Remus' heart cracked as a tear slid out of Sirius' eye and crossed his temple before disappearing into his hairline. He shoved the bag he had brought in under the table and stood. "Come on. We're going out."

"Out? What do you mean, out?" Sirius allowed Remus to pull him up out of the chair.

Remus led him through the swinging door and into the hall. "I mean out. You need out." He didn't bother to lower his voice. The portraits could scream all they wanted. Nobody would be here to listen except Kreacher.

"But I'm supposed to stay…"

"When did you ever care about 'supposed to'? As the last two Marauders, we must carry on that rule-breaking legacy." Remus pulled down Sirius' coat and handed it to him, then pulled on his own coat.

Sirius was still holding his coat and staring, open-mouthed. "Remus…"

A scarf that Sirius had made, black with gray around the edges and fringe, hung on one of the pegs. Remus pulled it down and wrapped it around Sirius' neck, then used it to pull him closer. "You learned how to transform into a dog for me. You saved my sanity when I was a teenage lycanthrope." He kissed Sirius hard on the mouth. "If a little jailbreak will help save yours, I'll risk Dumbledore's wrath."

A grin bloomed on Sirius' face, and he pulled on his jacket. He tied his scarf around his neck and nodded. "Let's go."

\-----

Molly pushed through the swinging door of the kitchen, balancing an armload of groceries and congratulating herself for not waking anything in the gloomy old house.

"Oh, hello Molly. I wasn't expecting you and Arthur back so soon."

Molly set down her bags and turned to face Sirius sitting next to the fireplace. She scowled when she spotted the glass of whiskey in his hand. "Isn't it a bit early for that?"

"I'm sure it is," Sirius replied in a falsely cavalier tone, "but I didn't think anyone would be around to judge me for it."

Molly frowned. "Where's Remus? Wasn't he…"

"He had to rush off to play double agent again." Sirius scowled and took another sip of his whiskey.

Molly's pursed her lips. She began bustling about the kitchen, putting the kettle over the fire and pulling a tin of tea and a cup from the cupboard. "We all have to -"

"We all have to make sacrifices, yes, yes. You and Arthur and Tonks and Kingsley are gathering information and guarding the prophecy. Mundungus has his ear to the ground among the criminal element. Even Snivelus is spying on the Death Eaters. And I have important cleaning to do." Sirius drained his glass and reached for the bottle.

Molly beat him to it and set it out of his reach, shoving a teacup in his hand instead. "I've given you all the perspective I have to offer on the subject, Sirius. I'm sorry you're stuck in the house, but getting drunk in the middle of the afternoon is hardly a solution." She sat next to him, and her feet hit something under the table. "What's this?" she asked as she pulled out the paper bag. When Sirius shrugged, she opened it and peered inside. "Where did all this yarn come from?"

That got Sirius' attention. "I think Remus brought that bag in," he said, only slightly slurring. "Let me see." 

Molly dumped the bag out on the table, and several hanks of yarn tumbled out onto the table - forest green yarn, Remus' favorite color. It was followed by a set of needles and a pamphlet. Sirius picked up one of the skeins, feeling the material and squeezing it in his hands.

Molly reached for the pamphlet. "It's a pattern for a sweater." She scanned the print. "It's fairly simple - well within your capabilities."

Sirius looked over her shoulder. "He wants me to make him a sweater?" 

"It appears so." Molly handed him the pamphlet. "You know, it's possible to work spells into knitting."

Sirius looked up from the pattern. "It is?"

Molly nodded. "Just as it is with metalwork and carpentry."

Sirius looked at the pattern and the yarn, then back at Molly. "What kind of spells?"

"All kinds of spells. You can make it stay dry in a rain storm, proof it against tears, lay in protection spells. Curses, even, though I can't imagine why anyone would take the time and effort of knitting something to bear a curse. Perhaps some old witch who has more time and nastiness than anything else."

"Sounds like something my dear mother would do." Sirius took a sip of tea and began winding one of the hanks into a ball. "Tell me more about these spells."

\-----

A mad cackling echoed through the house, sending chills through Sirius and awakening memories of Azkaban as he descended the stairs. He burst into the room it was coming from and saw the Kreacher on the floor before the fire, rolling with laughter.

"What are you laughing about?" Sirius fought the urge to clap his hands over his ears. "Why are you so happy?"

Kreacher sat up and sneered at Sirius. "Mistress will be so proud of Kreacher!"

Dread trickled coldly down Sirius' spine. "What?" Kreacher began cackling with renewed glee seeing his master's distress. "What have you done, Kreacher?

Remus pushed through the door and stopped short at the sight of Sirius standing there, stunned, and Kreacher laughing on the floor. "What happened?"

Sirius barely heard him, still staring at Kreacher, anxiety churning his stomach. "What have you done? I order you to tell me, Kreacher!" His voice rose to a roar. "What have you done?!"

"Kreacher followed the orders of Mistress Bellatrix."

"Bella…when did you speak to her? How could- What did you do?" Kreacher was laughing again, and he raised his wand to curse the foul, twisted little elf into oblivion, but Remus' touch in his wand hand stopped him.

Remus knelt next to Kreacher, positioning himself so that Sirius couldn't curse the elf without hitting him. "Kreacher, when did you speak to Bellatrix?"

"When the blood-traitor Weasleys and the Potter boy came before Christmas. Master told me to get out, so Kreacher got out and visited Mistress Narcissa, a true Black who Kreacher is honored to serve, who serves the Dark Lord and continues the legacy of my mistress…"

"What mission did Bellatrix give you?" Remus interrupted, hearing the impatient shuffling of Sirius' feet behind him.

Kreacher just giggled and grinned malevolently until Sirius shouted, "Answer him, you despicable creature!"

Kreacher's voice emerged strained, ground out against his will by the magics that bound him to the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. "I told the Potter boy you were at the Ministry of Magic." It became a gloat as he watched Sirius' face over Remus' shoulder. "Mistress Bellatrix will take this house when you die and I will have as proper mistress again, one who will honor -"

Sirius made an incomprehensible noise of rage and anguish as he shoved Remus out of the way. A red beam shot from the tip of his wand and hit the elf, and Remus fell back in horror.

"What…"

"He's stunned. I didn't kill him with magic - I'd rather strangle him with my bare hands." Sirius paced like a predator in a cage. "Harry…"

"We can't use the Floo network to check on him. I'll send a message to our people in Hogwarts, maybe he didn't fall for it." Remus accepted Sirius' hand and pulled himself up from the floor. "If he did…if he's headed for the Ministry, headed into the Death Eaters' trap…."

"Then it's time to fight." Sirius sounded fierce, but Remus could hear the note of worry and fear in his voice. "Send your message."

\-----

The grime on the window did little to dim the sunlight that slanted through it and shined directly into Remus' face. He opened his eyes and sat up before he remembered that Sirius was dead and the void that had taken up residence in his chest for the last two weeks returned.

He got out of bed and bathed and shaved mechanically. The void in his chest sucked harder as he picked up the tin of Darjeeling, but he made a pot to go with the last of the scones he had bought two days before. A shuddering breath escaped as he pulled on his favorite pair of gray and red striped socks, but he didn't cry again. He had run out of tears days ago.

A knock on the door made him look up, and he opened the door to find a woman with short, wavy black hair and blue eyes.

"Wotcher, Remus."

"Tonks. Please, come in. I didn't recognize you."

The slim young woman shrugged. "It happens all the time." She stepped inside, sweeping the room with her Auror's gaze before giving Remus her full attention. "Molly sent me. She wanted me to check on you."

"I'm fine." Remus forced a smile. "How are you holding up?"

Tonks shrugged again. "I didn't know him very well. I wish I had." She pulled a paper wrapped parcel, tied with twine, from under her arm and offered it to him. "Molly asked me to give you this."

Remus took the package, feeling the suck of the void in his chest as he sat on the edge of the bed and stared at it for a long moment.

"Should I go?"

Remus looked up at her. "No, please, sit down." The bed springs groaned as Tonks sat next to him, and he took a deep breath and pulled the note from under the twine, marginally relieved when he recognized Molly's handwriting.

_Remus,_

_I found this when we were clearing Grimmauld Place after the fight at the Ministry. It was mostly done, I just put on the finishing touches. Hope it fits well._

_Come around for tea or dinner sometime soon._

_Take care,  
Molly_

The paper fell away to reveal a hand-knit forest green sweater. The neckline was crooked, and the left sleeve was slightly longer than the right, but it was soft and warm in his hands.

Remus was surprised when drops rolled down his cheeks and splashed on the wool. A sob bubbled up and he clutched the sweater to his chest. He caught a whiff of cigarette smoke and a faint hint of dog in the wool, and the void roared so that he thought he might implode as a new well of tears was tapped and began to flow.

Tonks tentatively rubbed his back, and Remus leaned into her. They stayed that way for a long time.


End file.
